


The Plan

by Natashasolten



Category: Wiseguy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:16:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3608097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natashasolten/pseuds/Natashasolten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were supposed to be fighting. He and Vinnie. That was the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Plan

They were supposed to be fighting. He and Vinnie. That was the plan.

The event for the evening was at the Catholic Church in the Bronx where Joey Bags once ruled, near where Sonny Steelgrave grew up on Arthur Street. It was old territory. Sonny and his gumba Mahoney as well as many other kingpins of the east coast underworld always attended this local, annual celebration out of respect.

Tonight, making inroads to merge the Baglia and Steelgrave families by courting Joey’s daughter Theresa Baglia, Sonny intended to wine and dine her with sweet, city-boy charm, as was his fashion. They’d known each other since they were kids. He had a great affection for her. She understood and accepted his distinguished predilections and business practices. Things could work out well between them. Mutual affection would be enough to cement a marriage. He did not think about more. Pushing 35 years old, he’d almost given up on finding true love.

As he flirted with Theresa in the alcove of the church’s kitchen, he never lost awareness that Vinnie was watching him from a red-checked covered table behind a glass of red wine.

He could almost taste that wine the way he preferred it, more tart than sweet.

If looked at closer, the scene’s truth told of an unglamorous stage of actors, all the men in suits defining proper behavior, all the women in elegant dresses and high heels hanging back near the kitchen where often greater secrets were kept beyond those of underworld, nefarious dealings.

Everyone in attendance tonight had secrets. The room was made of them. Was anything here as it actually appeared?

The lights were fluorescent and hard, the floor scratched linoleum, the walls painted uneven beige, but the wine was high end, the cologne scents wafting throughout the vast hall were designer, and most of the people on this stage owned, in combined wealth, possibly enough to make even the Vatican forgive all the hidden sins here this evening.

Not only was Vinnie watching him, but Sonny felt eyes from Scalisi, Patrice’s stand-in man for the night, as well as many of the others in attendance. Everyone wanted to know what the deal was with him and Theresa. They were all careful to see if anyone planned to expand territories, or grow their power from a simple kiss to a mob-daughter into a liaison with a family from “old blood.”

Yeah, Sonny had plans. Too many to count. Patrice on the end of a noose was one, although Vinnie, still technically employed by the FBI’s organized crime division, could not know about that one or he’d try and stop him. Sonny was not content with Vinnie’s plan to simply arrest that bloodsucking viper. And as for his plans for Vinnie, well, the flutter in his gut reminded him that after he got everything in order with the east coast underworld, Vinnie would come first. Always. He’d give the guy anything he wanted. It had been that way from the beginning.

The smells from the kitchen wafted out the open door, roasted chicken and marinara sauce and pasta in a tangy steam, along with sugary currents of freshly baked pies and cakes.

While Vinnie watched him, Sonny charmed the laughter from Theresa, snaring her for his own, and felt a rush of power.

But as Sonny flattered Theresa, Vinnie’s intense blue eyes snared him, as always, and he made his way over to him, heart rate increasing, forgetting for a moment that they wanted to show these people they were not getting along. That Vinnie might be open to an idea of defection to Paul “Pat the Cat” Patrice from New York City.

As Sonny approached, he noted how Vinnie’s dark hair took on an inner light from even the most garish of fluorescents, how the diamond on his left hand (a ring he’d given him) drew a pink glaze from the reflections of the wine glass he held, how his eyes seemed slightly down-turned and shimmering as he looked up. Almost sad.

An immediate empathy opened up in Sonny, rare for him but coming less rare these days when he was around Vinnie. These feelings he had, this connection to his handsome right hand man, was a treat, and more. Sonny liked the swirling warm surges Vinnie inspired in him. He basked in the newness of that sensation, often barely realizing how it might look to others as he pulled this man closer and closer to him a little too quickly for their comfort. The old guard never stopped questioning his choices, his decisions. Making Vinnie a “made” man should have, but did not, quell the confusion and distrust. It only increased it.

If he could merge his interests with Joey Baglia’s family, everything could change. His rivals might find other more dangerous men to spy on. And Sonny would be freer to act on his instincts, and his more personal,Vinnie-inspired whims.

He was feeling good as he sat beside Vinnie, both their gazes following Theresa in her pale blue dress.

Vinnie made her a nice compliment. Sonny, proud to hear it, let his guard down for a moment and admitted his mood. “Yeah, I think I’ll marry her,” he said glibly. He often confessed his heart to Vinnie too easily, as well as most of his plans. Even the private ones. Vinnie was with him on this plan involving Theresa one hundred percent in every way. So when the insult came from Vinnie’s lips in Vinnie’s voice, something about the cow and the milk, Sonny bristled. It wasn’t like Vinnie, who had somehow retained his heart even in the darkest of places, to be so mean. And he was never like that with women.

Then he remembered. They were supposed to be fighting. Him and Vinnie. That was the plan.

He called himself an idiot in both English and Italian, then played up his anger, watching Vinnie’s face just to make sure Vinnie, too, had been acting. But of course he was. Vinnie was as loyal as they came. That innocent face belied a fiery intellect. Vinnie could be a formidable opponent. But right now all that face communicated was apology.

Still, Sonny kicked him outside. “Get out!” he commanded in a raised voice. They  made it look real good to the onlookers and spies. For Sonny’s plan to work, he and Vinnie needed to be at odds.

Vinnie went off for awhile, playing the affronted guy with an amusingly spoiled annoyance, but even that glum face tugged at Sonny’s heart. He did spoil the guy, that was for sure. It was just that Vinnie had never given him that look before.

When dinner was served, Vinnie was back and seated next to Sonny. They traded glares. He couldn’t show it, but Sonny was glad for the warmth beside him. His hands twitched with a desire to reach out. Vinnie wouldn’t have minded. Sonny was always touching him on the back or shoulder in public, thrilled when Vinnie leaned into the touches and met his eyes.

When the evening finally ended, and all the limos went their separate ways, Sonny and Vinnie rode for almost two hours toward home in Sonny’s town car, silently aware of their driver up front who must also be made to believe the two of them were not getting along.

Off and on, Sonny dozed.

When they arrived at the Royal Diamond Casino, still desperately silent, they entered the elevator together.

Once the doors closed, Sonny finally spoke. “I have a couple of things I have to do in my office.”

It was late. Still, Vinnie looked at him from under loose, shining bangs and said, “I’ll come with you.”

Once in the office, Vinnie went to his customary position on the couch while Sonny turned on his computer.

Fifteen minutes later, Sonny declared, “There. Finished.”

Vinnie put down the evening paper and rose, coming over to his desk.

Sonny looked at him standing there serene, beautiful and waiting. Before he stood, he said, “Just one more thing.”

“What?”

“You insulted Theresa.”

“We’re supposed to be fighting.”

“And that’s what you came up with? It could’ve been politics, business, philosophy. You’re good at that philosophy stuff. You could’ve made me look real stupid and mad.”

Vinnie studied him intently for a moment. Sonny lifted his chin, liking the attention.

Vinnie said, “You know why I picked on Theresa for show?”

Sonny shook his head.

“Because if I look like I’m not with you on this, on matters of your heart, it looks real bad. For us. It looks like I don’t care about you. Or maybe that I’m jealous. Like I want your position or something.”

“Do you?”

“Sonny! Dammit. No.” He frowned, then softer, “No.”

“Ah, I know that.” Sonny’s chest released a bit of tension just then. But he had to ask. “You’re not jealous of her, are you?”

“No. I mean, well, it’s a great plan, you know. I’ve never even been close to marriage myself.” He played with the diamond on his left little finger.

Turning away, Sonny said, confessing far too easily again, as if this man were priest, angel and best friend all in one, “I don’t love her, you know.”

Vinnie’s arm lifted and he scratched the back of his head. He looked away. “I pretty much guessed not.”

Sonny got up. “Hey. I don’t like this. I don’t like fighting, not even if it’s pretend. Not with you.”

The smile on Vinnie’s lips grew soft. He thought Vinnie was going to laugh at him again, but instead, he said quietly, “It was your plan.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He had so many plans. Too many to count. He waved his hand through the air as if that gesture alone could end or change the subject.

 “I…” Vinnie stopped. “I don’t like it, either.”

Sonny watched the angles of his face in the downtown city light streaming through the window, the way the shades of gold and tan and beige shifted over the smooth skin and colored the dark hair with softer tones of amber and topaz.

“Sonny…”

Again, the hand wave. “It’s okay. I’m happy. With all our plans. Really. We do what we have to do, right? For the job?” He wanted to wink at him, make it a joke, but both their jobs were still a heavy burden that existed between them.

An absent look came over Vinnie as he nodded, echoing him. “Yeah. For the job.”

“So we’re clear on all this, right?” Was that a slight tremble in his own voice?

“Right.”

The moment Sonny moved forward through the etched shadows, the soft carpet cushioning the soles of his feet, the air flickering with tiny sparks from the added moisture in his eyes as he let his guard down all the way, Vinnie walked forward, too.

They met evenly, gracefully, neither bumping nor awkward, Sonny’s hands moving up over Vinnie’s shoulders, Vinnie’s going tightly around his waist. Bodies pressed. Arms squeezed.

Sonny pushed his face into Vinnie’s neck. Vinnie leaned his head against Sonny’s shoulder. For long moments they clung, hearts speeding up, breaths catching. Sonny breathed in Vinnie’s scent as if it were a long held-back season: rain and earth and sky. It both lifted him up and grounded him, a direct complement to his own insubstantial, dark and dream-like existence.

Up until this past year of his life, Sonny had given up on finding true love. Until he’d met Vinnie.

He raised one hand to the back of Vinnie’s neck, his fingers threading through the silken hair of his lover. He turned his head to the side and placed a lingering kiss on the underside of Vinnie’s jaw.

Vinnie sighed in response. The sound of his pleasure sent darts of impending ecstasy throughout Sonny’s body. He pulled Vinnie’s head closer until their cheeks rubbed, until they could feel each other’s breaths flame against their faces. Lips trailing up one cheekbone, Sonny whispered, “No more pretending tonight.”

“No more,” Vinnie agreed.

Their mouths met, hungry, searching, longing. In their intimate frenzy, it seemed they could never get close enough.

And that was how it always was with them, almost from the beginning.

Every night they sneaked into Sonny’s bedroom, locked the doors against the cold world of La Familia, and pulled the blinds on the FBI.

Love un-weighed, immeasurable, became their supreme and ever-lasting plan.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this story, you may enjoy my male/male romance trilogy by my non-fanfic name: Wendy Rathbone. "The Foundling" trilogy includes: The Foundling, None Can Hold the Dark and The Lostling: Alec's Story. They are available on Amazon at very very low prices. Also, my science fiction novel "Letters to an Android" contains m/m themes.
> 
> http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=The+Foundling+by+Wendy+Rathbone


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